Art, Faith, and the Stories That Guide Us

Rehan Khan is an accomplished author but, more importantly to me, a wise and gentle soul who makes the world’s most amazing chai.

I’ve spent many hours in Rehan’s beautiful home in Dubai, either browsing his library, in deep conversation, or at one of his legendary poetry circles. In every case, Rehan’s spiritually grounded approach to life and creative work is inspirational.

A highlight of our creative collaboration was travelling to Madinah and dreaming up ideas for our project, Tales of Khayaal.

I asked Rehan to reflect on his journey, and as expected, I was moved by his words and insights.

“Having spent three decades working in the corporate sector, mostly around the future of work, I always had this gnawing feeling that there was something else I should be doing. But providing for one’s family, paying the bills, and matters such as these brought a cold, hard logic to any dreams I had of pursuing anything else.

A chance question from my then six-year-old daughter (she is now in her twenties) asking what I wanted to be when I grew up wrenched me out of the monotony that had set into my mindset and reminded me that, as a boy, I wanted to be a writer. I undertook some training courses and tried my hand at writing film scripts, but then a comment from an acquaintance propelled me down the path of authoring novels.

The first three novels were self-published, but in truth they were clouded by my desire to seek fame and fortune from my writing, spurred on by imaginings of walking the red carpet on the opening night of the movies that would obviously be made based on my books. Providence provided me the opportunity to interview one of the biggest names in fantasy fiction, a devout Christian, and it highlighted that my intention had been wrong all along.

“I was too focused on the outcome, wanting my books to be a success and seeking adulation. I changed my intention, not to focus on the outcome, but to focus on the journey, to orient myself as a wayfarer (salik) on the spiritual path back to God. In essence, my writing should help me draw closer to God.

Months later, I got a three-book publishing contract with a UK publisher, and the first novel, A Tudor Turk, in the Ottoman-Tudor historic fiction series was nominated for the Carnegie Medal in the UK.

What these experiences led me to realise was that, as human beings, in the story we tell ourselves we must have a horizon, a point of transcendence, when we pass from this world to the next, from this realm to another, from the physical to the metaphysical; otherwise, the world and the universe can feel pointless. For us, this story begins with the primordial covenant we all made with God when we attested that He is our Lord and unto Him is the return. When we remind ourselves about our own Divine history, this is a hopeful place to be in. This is a hopeful story to hold on to. It helps us navigate through life, whatever the trials and tribulations we encounter.

It also presents us with an opportunity, for each moment is an opportunity. What do we choose to do with it? Spend time with the family, share a smile and hug, help someone out, or spend time watching trivial and frivolous content on our smartphones? Storytellers have always been interested in how to live with feelings of hope and purpose in the moment, as the antonym of hope is clearly despair, which is not part of our tradition.

Unfortunately, popular culture germinated on the work of enlightenment philosophers such as Descartes and Nietzsche, normalising behaviour that wasn’t for the public sphere. It loves to break moral traditions which humans have held on to for thousands of years. Yet we are people of tradition, of holding dear to what has come before.

“Our scholars teach us that the senses are a pathway to the spiritual heart, so God is protecting our hearts by telling us not to do or see certain things. Our spiritual hearts are very sensitive, more so than the physical heart, which means we need to be very careful about what we let in through our senses – what we see, what we hear, what we say.

For those of us who are artists, whether writers, poets, sculptors, architects, painters, musicians, gardeners, or in any other creative field, we must ask ourselves what’s the purpose of our art – why are we creating? Is it to satisfy our ego, or is it something larger, something more meaningful than ourselves? I know that when I published my first couple of novels, my intention was wrong. But this was also part of the journey.

For Muslims, art is about drawing closer to God through living a virtuous life as an artist and, through our art, reminding others about God. For example, most of the greatest buildings designed and constructed in the Islamic world served this purpose: to remember God.

So, as a writer, I have to ask myself, does my novel remind me and my readers about God? Or if I am a painter or designer, does my painting or design attest to this primordial truth, that we came from God and to Him is the return?

Leo Tolstoy, the great Russian novelist, lived a largely bohemian life, but toward the end of it, he became a follower of the Christian tradition. His last work of nonfiction was called What Is Art? In it he stated that as religion has receded from the minds of the populace, so art has become devoid of purpose. And we have a situation today, in which anything goes because there is no standard, no criteria by which to judge what is good and bad art. This situation remains true today.

Now, I have the opportunity to work with Peter Gould on a project that we hope will incline hearts toward the Creator. The project is called Tales of Khayaal, which will initially be delivered as a series of novels insha’Allah. The stories are set on a different planet but inspired by our tradition, blending imagination with spiritual reflection.

Our aim with Tales of Khayaal is to remind ourselves and our readers about the approaching horizon, the moment of transcendence. Every moment is an opportunity for writers from faith-based backgrounds to put virtue back into the stories we tell and, through these stories, guide hearts on the most epic journey we will ever take – the journey to witness the Beloved."

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